Two Weeks In Hawaii
by L. J. Fathom
Summary: I felt so bad when your mom caught us eating ice cream in your room at three in the morning 'cause I'd hate for her to not want me around her daughter." Brika, because there isn't enough of it. A little fluffy. ;


**-→ A.N. There are not enough Brika fics by a longshot, right? Boo Reddie, we want some old school rich boys with ice cream. ;D This fic was stolen from/inspired by the line "I felt so bad when your mom caught us eating ice cream in your room at three in the morning 'cause I'd hate for her to not want me around her daughter" from the song Two Weeks In Hawaii by Hello Goodbye. Expect less fluffy fics in the future. ;D Bwahaha.**

'You awake? :) X'

She glared sleepily at the text message. It seemed that he'd added a little smile and a kiss to his message to remove the sting of being woken at... 2 am? It also suggested that this wasn't urgent and not really worthy of waking her at such an ungodly hour. Both were equally good reasons to be annoyed. She winced, flicked her bedside light on, and made herself more comfortable in bed. It was a warm night (morning?), but Mika disliked sleeping without the comfort of a heavy blanket over her, and so she wrapped the duvet around herself and texted back.

'I am now - what do u want?'

Perhaps her tone could have been a little gentler, but she was not in the gentlest of moods. Not only had Brett had to cancelled on her at lunch (only after letting her sit on her own in the cafe like an idiot for three quarters of an hour, mind you), he had now disturbed her precious sleep. And that was unforgivable. The reply was irritatingly prompt.

'Can I come over?'

She sighed with frustration at his meticulous spelling and grammar. It was a text, not a bloody essay.

'no'

After a moment's hesitation, she sent another.

'y ru awake?'

His reply took a lot longer this time, and she almost switched her phone off and went back to sleep, but her damned curiosity got the better of her.

'Can't sleep, feel bad. ): I have ice cream?'

Mika grudgingly gave him a few brownie points for feeling so guilty that he couldn't sleep, then stared blankly at the last sentence. Ice cream? At 2am? She paused, trying to tell herself that she really didn't fancy ice cream right now, and failing.

'what flavour?'

'Ben & Jerry. I have a few different flavours (don't ask!), what's your favourite?'

Biting back an amused grin, she replied without having to think about it.

'phish food. u do know its 2am?'

'Getting closer to half past, isn't it?'

After glancing at her clock, she rolled her eyes.

'get here quick, ill wait at the door'

That was yet another thing that she hated and loved about Mr. Aspinall. The way every single little thing was amusing to him, and deserved one of his smug little smiles. And yet they made him look so boyish and innocent and just happy that she couldn't help but smile stupidly herself. Currently it was her sleep deprived ramblings about school that he was finding just so amusing. By now it was about 3 am, and they were sat cross legged opposite each other on her bed, huddled around a tub of ice cream. She was wearing pajamas – her wonderfully comfortable and embarrassingly cutesy ones with two rabbits kissing. He, meanwhile, was dressed an in uncharacteristically casual white T-shirt and grey jogging bottom combination. His dark hair was sleepily ruffled and untidy, and there was a subtle darkness around his eyes. This messiness was something she couldn't help but like about him. It made him more human, more approachable. And it was really quite adorable.

They giggled through a hushed conversation about ridiculous secret staff romances (Brett constructed an incredibly detailed – and surprisingly convincing – story of how Mr. Wilding and Miss Haydock were clearly in a deep romantic relationship which had Mika both squealing in disgust and laughing uncontrollably), then moved on to a soft conversation about matters much more serious. The past, the future, feelings that only ice cream could allow to be voiced. And the door to Mika's room swung open and they froze, slowly turning to glance at the figure frowning in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Izzie whispered in that bemused, slightly irritated tone people have for those situations when they're annoyed at being woken up and bemused by the situation they're faced with. Brett and Mika both stared at her awkwardly for a moment.

"I think I should probably go now," Brett murmured, turning back to Mika with a nervous smile which she mimicked, nodding.

"I think you should, too. Do you two realise the time?" Izzie replied, now looking slightly distressed.

As he was shepherded down the stairs and through the front door, Brett tried to form a persuasive – and hushed - argument for forgiving him. "Because I knew she was upset, because I mucked up. I felt really bad. I couldn't sleep. I wanted to make it up to her. I'm really sorry I woke you up. We got off on the wrong foot, I think. Why don't I cook you all a meal one day to make up for it?" He stood on their porch, looking hopeful, and she stared back, exhausted and unimpressed.

"Friday. You can come over at eight and make us dinner."

"It's a date!" The door slammed and he grinned. Could've been worse. As he climbed back into his car with a yawn, a message flickered up on his mobile phone.

'Gdnite babes, thnx 4 the ice cream.'


End file.
